


Five Christmases

by strawberrylips (asdfghannah)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, One Shot, it's also the first fic i've finished holla, it's just fluffy sweet future christmas fic ok, starts in canon sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdfghannah/pseuds/strawberrylips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, and Stiles’ head was pillowed against Derek’s shoulder. Stiles was watching the snow fall outside the window of their newly purchased brownstone, and listening to Norah Jones playing softly from his favorite playlist, and he felt Derek press a small kiss to his head before he spoke, putting his book down and pushing the glasses that Stiles thought were so cute back up his nose.</p><p>“Stiles,” he murmured fondly, and drew a hand up Stiles’ side to settle across his stomach, pulling him impossibly closer. </p><p>“Merry Christmas, Derek.” Stiles smiled, and Derek tilted Stiles’ chin up, returning the smile softly before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. </p><p>“Merry Christmas, Stiles.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Christmases

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! this is my first post on AO3 so if I format wrong or my characterization absolutely ruins the fic or something please take pity on me, I'm new.
> 
> Just a note:  
> A row of asterisks denotes the jump to the next Christmas.  
> A tilde (one of these ~~~) denotes a jump in time for the same Christmas.
> 
> I thought about chaptering this but decided against it since it's only ~4K.

Derek stepped out of the train car, scowling as his betas, led by Stiles, dragged a gigantic redwood into the warehouse.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Derek, Christmas is in two weeks.” Stiles answered, as if Derek hadn’t known.

“And?”

“We brought you a tree. Now come here and help decorate,” Lydia said, striding in, bags and bags of tinsel and ornaments hanging off of her arms.  
Derek turned around and gritted his teeth as he walked back into the train car.

“Don’t be such a sourwolf!” he heard Stiles say, and he stalked away. He knew it was fucking Christmas in two weeks. He didn’t need to be reminded that it was his first Christmas without any of his family. He had planned on ignoring it completely, for this year at least. The loss of Laura was too fresh and his wolf still howled for her, inside his chest, but she never came.

And he didn’t need an entire day to remember how he and Laura used to bake cookies and flick flour at each other and sneak extras to the littlest Hales before bedtime. He really did not need that. He sat down with a huff and put his head in his hands. He could hear his pack putting up the tree and decorating, listening to their banter and the clinking of ornaments against each other, and it made him bitter.

“I know….” He heard from the door, and he looked up to see Stiles standing there. Of fucking course it was Stiles. “I know you probably weren’t going to do anything for Christmas. But I didn’t want you to be alone during the holidays, Derek, because like, holidays are for family and this pack is family right? And we’re all pack and we want our alpha to be happy, and – okay, now you’re glowering at me, stop glowering, I just knew you were probably feeling a little sad this Christmas and I wanted - we wanted, to cheer you up, but, I can see that’s not….so I’m just going to – uh,” Stiles backed out of the train car, and went back to the pack, sighing.

Derek stared at the space Stiles had just vacated. He had spoken like he understood. Like he understood and he wanted to help. Stiles seemed to be picking up on Derek a lot more lately; he knew when Derek needed him and when Derek wanted to be alone, and he seemed to pick up on Derek’s emotion better than the rest of the pack. Something in his wolf felt secure around Stiles, and even though he was an idiot, Derek was connected to him – he was pack. It also didn't really help Derek's resolve that he'd been regularly fantasizing about Stiles' mouth. But – Stiles was Stiles, and Derek figured he’d just wanted an excuse to put up a tree that big somewhere.

After the tree was up and decorated, he heard everyone make plans to come back Christmas Eve and hang out for Pack Christmas. Derek felt – well, not quite like he was looking forward to it, but he at least didn’t hate the idea. At least, he didn’t hate it enough to shut it down.

As everyone left, Derek stepped out to look at the monstrosity they’d erected in his space.

It was actually kind of pretty.

Derek heard Stiles fumbling with his keys and he left the warehouse to shove Stiles up against his Jeep, one forearm holding Stiles’ chest back, his legs bracketing Stiles’, holding him in place.

“So you really don’t like it?” Stiles squeaked out. “I just thought it might give you some Christmas cheer, maybe it was a dumb idea, Derek, please don’t take it out on me, I just wanted to make you happy, but I can see I’m obviously not great at that-”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growled, and stared at Stiles. Stiles’ intentions were only to make Derek happy, he could sense that much. But he couldn’t figure out why. Stiles was pack but he wasn’t a wolf, so he didn’t have the deep-rooted instinct to care for and be cared for about the alpha that the wolves had. But Derek’s wolf liked Stiles. It liked that Stiles had saved Derek’s life so many times, that Stiles kind of got Derek, and Derek realized he’d been staring at Stiles’ lips when his tongue flicked out to lick them. Holy shit. Stiles’ mouth. Derek had had dreams about that mouth, about it everywhere on Derek’s body. He’d had many, many dreams about Stiles, but he'd ignored them.

“When a wolf finds its mate,” Derek said quietly, “it doesn’t know right away. The wolf doesn’t recognize them immediately and then suddenly the world revolves around their mate. No, the wolf recognizes potential and then, sort of, pays special attention to that person. It’s sort of like how humans develop crushes, only it’s not a crush. Wolves recognize their mate after they spend enough time around them to realize. And it’s not a crush. Wolves mate for life.”

Stiles was breathing heavily. “Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with me being shoved up against my Jeep?”

Derek growled. He’s just told him. “You’re an idiot, Stiles,” Derek said.

And then Derek kissed him.

*****************

Derek surveyed the tiny apartment he and Stiles had moved into as he placed Stiles’ gift – original edition Batman comics that Stiles had been eyeing for months at the comic book store - underneath their makeshift (seriously, it was garland wrapped around a traffic cone) tree. Derek was still not quite sure how Stiles had acquired the traffic cone; it said “Property of the City of New York” across it, but Derek wasn’t going to ask; he was just glad they had something in their apartment. He stepped back and looked around the small living room and kitchen, with the barest of decorations; but it didn’t matter. They were here, in New York, together. He felt a tug in his chest at the thought of his mate, who was just in the other room, sleeping; he had begrudgingly agreed to help Stiles decorate for Christmas, and with the little money they had, they’d made the apartment a cheery, if not elaborate, little holiday scene. He shook his head, smiling; they’d really tried their best, but it wasn’t much. Derek wished, for a moment, that Stiles would let him dip into the insurance money Derek had- and he had a lot of it - but Stiles had insisted on living like a real young New Yorker, poor and all, telling Derek to put the money away for something more important in the future. Derek knew what that meant - a house, college and trust funds, other, really important things, so he'd listened, and they survived. But Derek still wished Stiles would just let him get a _tree_.

“Hey, it’s about the spirit, not the décor,” he heard Stiles say sleepily, and Derek turned to find his boyfriend leaning against the doorframe to their bedroom. Stiles was wearing only his boxers, smiling sleepily at Derek, and Derek closed his eyes against the suddent wave of affection that hit him, filling his stomach with warmth.

“Why the face?”

“Shh, Stiles.”

“But why-”

“I’m trying to save this moment, okay? I want to remember it. Our shitty apartment in the meatpacking district and our traffic cone tree and you, you looking obscenely beautiful for nine in the morning. I need good memories to keep.”

Derek opened his eyes, and Stiles was staring at him, that mouth of his open a little, and Derek stowed that memory away too. “How are you real?” Stiles shook his head, and then he was there, tucking his head under Derek’s chin and wrapping his arms around Derek’s middle.

When Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, he was distracted for a moment by the happy rumbling he realized was coming from his chest; his wolf, contented with his mate being here and his pack nearby, in the city somewhere, having their own Christmases.

“I love you,” Derek said quietly, and Stiles’ smile split his face as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“I love you,” Stiles said, wrapping a hand around Derek’s neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Derek returned the kiss happily, nipping at Stiles’ bottom lip, curving his hand around Stiles’ waist, and slipping a fingertip underneath the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, pulling him close.

Derek realized, as Stiles pulled away, smiling up at Derek with that little smile that made his heart flutter, that the pressure in his chest was joy, and he was full to bursting with it; he couldn’t remember a time he’d been so happy since his childhood. He leaned down and pecked Stiles on the forehead, tightening his grip on the boy. He wanted to yell and cry and let everyone know that Derek Hale was _so fucking happy_. He remembered Christmases from his childhood, the Hale pack all gathered around the big tree in their front room, and the tang of the bittersweet memory made his smile falter – he wanted nothing more than to be able to introduce Stiles to his parents, to share Christmas with his whole family, Stiles included. But this Christmas would be just as happy as those, Derek promised himself, tucking Stiles’ face into his neck with a gentle hand. He had Stiles, and the rest of his family – the whole pack – were going to be together for dinner at Scott and Allison’s: Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Danny, and even Jackson and Lydia would be making an appearance. And Derek had a surprise for all of them; he let go of Stiles with one hand to fiddle with the small velvet box in his pocket.

Stiles nuzzled into his neck, placing a kiss on Derek’s collarbone, then stepped back, still smiling as brightly as ever.

“So? Presents?”

Derek smiled and nodded, and couldn’t help but grin at Stiles’ yelp of excitement when he opened his present.

Stiles handed Derek his present, and he rolled his eyes in fondness when he saw the sweatshirt, printed with “Beacon Hills Pack” on the front and “Sourwolf, #1” on the back. “Do you love it?” Stiles asked, smiling.

“I hate it,” Derek smiled as he pushed his arms into the sleeves, pulling it on over his henley. “I hate it so much.”

Stiles’ peals of laughter rang throughout the room, and Derek pulled Stiles to him, snuggling into the sweater and his mate. “Hate it,” he mumbled into Stiles’ neck.

~

After three unsuccessful attempts to get dressed for dinner, each ending with Derek pulling the shirt right back off of Stiles to touch his skin, push him on the bed, bruise his lips with heavy kisses, Stiles kicked Derek out of their room and pulled on a dress shirt, changing out of his sweats into slacks, and then walked out into their living room.

“I’m in the safe zone now! You can’t touch me or take my clothes off!” Stiles said, holding his hands out and backing around Derek towards the kitchen.

Derek rolled his eyes. “You didn’t say that last night when we were out here on the couch, or yesterday in the morning in the kitchen, when you were licking frosting off of my-”  
Stiles yelped, and Derek smirked at him.

“Well it applies now, go get dressed, we’re going to be late! We don’t want the pack to think we were late because we were having sex, okay, even though it would be the truth, but that can wait.” He crossed his arms and Derek sighed but headed in to get changed, leaving the door open and throwing a look over his shoulder at Stiles, one eyebrow cocked in invitation.

They were late.

~

Jackson and Lydia arrived after dinner, when everyone was sitting down in the living room to coffee and pie, and Derek’s heart fluttered in anticipation. Everyone was here now, talking and laughing, and Derek’s heart swelled as he saw his pack, happy and healthy and thriving, and his mate. Stiles was talking to Erica across the coffee table, one hand gesticulating wildly, but the other was wrapped around Derek, securing Stiles’ spot halfway in Derek’s lap. The room had a happy buzz to it, and Derek felt calm, through and through.

There was a small lull in the conversation, and Derek cleared his throat.

Everyone looked to their alpha, expectant. Derek cast his gaze around the room, to his betas, and a small smile stole over his features. He locked eyes with Stiles, who was beaming at him as usual, his stupidly cute grin making Derek’s smile expand.

“I’m really glad everyone could be together today,” he said, and an affirmative chorus of hums and nods and smiles surrounded him. “I’ve always loved Christmas to be with family, and this is our family now, and it’s – it’s really nice. I haven’t had to have a Christmas alone.”

“Thanks to Stiles,” Scott smiled, and everyone assented, including, and especially, Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek said, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. “Thanks to Stiles.” He laced his fingers in between his mate’s, and the blush that crept up Stiles’ neck was so endearing that Derek had to press a kiss to Stiles’ temple.

“That’s actually…kind of the point of this little speech,” Derek said, and Stiles’ eyes widened. “Stiles, you’ve been there every single day to make sure I don’t have to be alone ever again. And I’m never going to leave you alone, not a single day in forever, and God, I sound so cliché, but I don’t give a shit. Stiles, you make me happy, you’re my mate, and in some ways that’s more important, but I want to do this too.” Stiles’ eyes were even wider, and the pack were transfixed, smiles plastered on all of their faces.

Derek pulled out the little box and got off of the couch, onto one knee. “Stiles, I love you. Will you marry me?”

The whole room seemed to gasp, and Stiles had a hand clapped over his mouth. His eyes filled with tears, and just as Derek was about to tense up, ask him what was wrong, what did he do? – Stiles started nodding frantically, and pulled Derek up off of the floor, throwing his arms around Derek’s neck and kissing him, hard, mumbling “yes” against his lips.

“Yes, yesyesyes, absolutely yes, Derek, yes!”

******************

Derek and Stiles got married a year and one day after he proposed. Stiles told Derek one night, as they lay in bed, that as a teenager he’d dreamed of a big white wedding, because that’s how Lydia would have wanted it. And though his object of affection had changed, Stiles still wanted a white wedding, though perhaps not to that scale. Derek made sure Stiles got what he wanted, and they were married in a lodge in upstate New York, surrounded by snow and friends and family, on Boxing Day.

Derek could not remember a day that even came close to making him a tenth as happy as he was the moment he spoke those two incredibly important words.

“I do.”

~

“Well this is…weird.” Stiles said as he rolled over, onto Derek, on the gigantic, fluffy bed. He gestured to the beach just outside, past the double doors and down the steps. Waves rolled in, and a warm breeze blew in through the open windows.

“Christmas in Maui,” Derek said. “You wanted the literal white wedding in the snow,” he reminded Stiles. “So honeymoon at Christmastime. Maui.”

“It’s perfect,” Stiles sighed, kissing Derek’s bare chest.

Derek threaded a hand into Stiles’ hair; he’d let it grow out a little, and it was just enough to tug on, which Derek loved. Stiles whined into Derek’s chest when Derek removed his hand to answer the ringing hotel phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Hale, a package has been delivered for you at the front desk from a “McCall Family”. Would you like us to bring it to your cabana?”

“Please,” he answered, and hung up when the concierge agreed.

“What is it?” Stiles asked.

“A package for us, from Scott and Allison.” Derek shrugged. “They’re delivering it in a couple of hours.”

“So we have a couple of hours of uninterrupted time with which to have sex,” Stiles announced, and kissed Derek’s chest again, marking a trail of kisses down Derek’s stomach, the V of his abdomen, across his boxers, where Derek was beginning to get hard already, and down his thighs before coming back up to mouth at Derek through his boxers.  
Derek threw his head back, biting his lip, as Stiles pulled Derek’s boxers down from his hips and all the way past his knees. Derek worked to shuck them completely, and his cock strained up into the empty space between his body and Stiles’ mouth, searching for friction.

“Fuck,” Derek bit out as Stiles quickly licked over the tip and then took Derek into his mouth, working him with his tongue. Derek moaned and thrusted up involuntarily, and holy fuck, that was Stiles’ throat against his cock and Stiles was holding him there, before pulling off to cough and then returning to Derek’s cock, sucking him down.

The friction was heaven and Derek didn’t know how long he was going to last – Stiles was so fucking good at this. Derek pushed a hand into Stiles’ hair, not pushing him or even guiding Stiles. Derek just needed something to hold onto while he came undone, making obscene little noises that got Stiles to groan in the affirmative.

“Derek,” Stiles said as he pulled off, looking up from under the lashes of his eyes, heavily lidded with arousal. Derek thrusted up, helplessly turned on, and so close to release; he could feel it building in the pit of his stomach, under his skin. “Come for me,” Stiles murmured, and as soon as his gorgeous mouth, the star of so many of Derek’s fantasies, was back on his cock, Derek came with a groan. Stiles held Derek in his mouth, swallowing and sucking, and Derek moaned.

“Fuck, Stiles, jesus fuck, that mouth should be illegal,” Derek said, and Stiles crawled up Derek, laying half across him and Derek reached over, lazily tugging on Stiles’ cock, kissing Stiles, until Stiles came, breathless and spurting onto Derek’s stomach.

“I like Christmas in Maui,” Stiles yawned, and Derek nodded.

“Me too.”

~

Scott and Allison sent condoms.

Derek cursed them.

Stiles thanked them.

******************

“Derek,” Stiles mumbled into his husband’s neck. They were wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, and Stiles’ head was pillowed against Derek’s shoulder. Stiles was watching the snow fall outside the window of their newly purchased brownstone, and listening to Norah Jones playing softly from his favorite playlist, and he felt Derek press a small kiss to his head before he answered, putting his book down and pushing the glasses that Stiles thought were so cute back up his nose.

“Stiles,” he murmured fondly, and drew a hand up Stiles’ side to settle across his stomach, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Merry Christmas, Derek.” Stiles smiled, and Derek tilted Stiles’ chin up, returning the smile softly before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

~

“You know what I was thinking about earlier?” Stiles asked a little later, sitting up a little to stretch. “Cookies.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, you made six dozen cookies _yesterday_.”

“But the pack came over,” Stiles protested. “And now there’s only two dozen.”

Derek hid his smile behind his book, but Stiles saw the glint of laughter in Derek’s eyes and grinned.

“You totally love my cookies, Derek,” Stiles said. “I’m going to the store to get more sugar, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Stiles leaned over and kissed his husband, then hopped up, grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door.

“You’re going to get me fat,” Derek called after him.

“Chubby wolves are cuter anyway,” Stiles called back, and Derek couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as the door closed.

He heard Stiles just outside the door greeting their neighbors. Derek’s wolf rumbled happily as he realized that the home he’d yearned for ever since the fire, the one he’d dreamed of rebuilding with a new pack – he had it. He inexplicably, assuredly, absolutely, _had_ it.

Forever.

***********************

“DAD!” Derek heard first thing on Christmas morning, “WAKE UP DADDY!”

He opened his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips as his daughter, Laura, climbed on him. “Daddy, Papa’s already making pancakes, we're gonna open presents, but Papa says we have to wake you up first _Daddy let’s go!_ ”

Derek pulled his daughter into his arms, nuzzling against her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he smiled. Laura flashed her biggest smile before running back in the direction of the kitchen.

Derek pulled on the first thing in his drawer, an old, fading sweatshirt that said “Sourwolf, #1” on the back, over his sweats, and headed into the kitchen, ruffling Laura’s hair as he passed her, and wrapped his arms around Stiles, who was flipping pancakes. Derek nipped at the tendon in Stiles’ neck until Stiles turned, laughing, to kiss Derek, pulling back to shake his head.

“Gonna burn the pancakes,” Stiles argued weakly, and Derek just kissed him again.

“Ew, dads, could you stop?” Derek heard, and he turned to see Laura pulling a face. He chuckled and went to sit by her, pulling a little present off of the counter and sitting down next to her as he handed it to her. Her face lit up and she tore the wrapping paper off, squealing at the little silver wolf necklace.

“Put it on, Daddy!” She ordered, and Derek obliged, clasping the chain around her neck. He immediately felt for his chain, fingering the little wolf on the end of it, and looked over to see a smiling Stiles holding his as well.

“Is this the Christmas where you’re gonna tell me all the wolf stories?” Laura asked, and Derek smiled. As soon as she’d been able to understand, he’d told Laura about werewolves, and that she was born one (because he and Stiles had decided to let Derek be the biological father with the egg donor, because there was a chance of their child becoming a born werewolf, and they’d wanted that), but she hadn’t been told much past that, and she was almost seven now, and he could tell her the stories now that she’d understand them.

“Yeah, it is,” Stiles said, kissing the curve of Derek’s ear as he set down their breakfast and sat down.

“And then presents?” Laura asked excitedly.

Derek laughed. “And then presents, sweetheart.”

/end

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! If you liked this fic, you can always check my tumblr (haleinskied.tumblr) for updates on other things i might be writing (I have another Sterek fic in progress, and I always have one shots and stuff in progress as well, and now that I'm on AO3 I actually have a place to post them!)


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